


The Undertaker's Office After Hours

by MintyMochaphilia



Category: Cheapjack Gentleman
Genre: Cheapjack Gentlemen, Eye Trauma, F/M, If you havent heard of the comic cheapjack gentleman you should check it out on webtoons or tapas!!, Interracial Relationship, Necrophilia, No beta readers we submit like men, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn with Comedy, Undertaker/Maid, Webcomic character, Wilkinson Graeber/OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintyMochaphilia/pseuds/MintyMochaphilia
Summary: After making his rounds, on a dark and story night, Mr. Graeber returns to his cold, secluded office alone. He's tempted from his duties by a young maid that stumbled into his possession... They spend the night together, as they wait for the storm to pass.The maid OC is mine, Wilkinson belongs to Miss Fester!
Relationships: Wilkinson/OC
Kudos: 5





	The Undertaker's Office After Hours

The rain came down, cold and harsh, beating angrily against the head of Wilkinson’s umbrella. He pulled the collar of coat further up, to shield his face from the whipping rain and squinted through his spectacles. The rain came down so hard he could barely see a few feet in front of him. When he finally made it inside his office, he was soaked to the bone, and dripping from head to toe. He shook off his umbrella and hung it by the door. “Spectacular rain protection”, he thought bitterly to himself. 

The Morgue was quiet, just the way Wilkinson liked it. Secluded and peaceful, without a living soul in sight. He made his way to the backroom. Shedding off his coat, Wilkinson draped it over his favorite chair as he passed by. It took all his will power not to practically run to the room where his newest cadaver was waiting. Locking the examination room door behind him, Wilkinson opened an instrument cupboard and pulled out a small basket. He set the basket on the floor and retrieved several candles from farther back in the cubby space. 

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. The weather was so horrid tonight, I could barely see an inch in front of me.” The wrapped body on the table said nothing in response. 

“From rain, of course.” He laughed aloud. “You’re so precious, Marguerite.” 

He placed the candles around the gloomy room and lit each one. Occasionally, Wilkinson threw glances back at his covered guest. 

“You have such a beautiful name, where are you from originally?”

Again, there was no response. 

Wilkinson sighed, as if he was locked in a trance.

“Saint--Étienne? How exquisite. I’ve heard France is such a beautiful country.” Wilkinson propped his elbow on the counter aside the candle, and leaned against the back of his hand. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, my dear.” He smiled a full toothed smile.

He stood there, in silence, taking in the sound of Marguerite’s lovely voice. Just as he felt himself getting lost in the conversation, Wilkinson jumped and yelled out in surprise. Jerking back his hand, he dropped the match that singed his finger, and stomped it into the floor. He nursed his burnt finger, wincing in pain. Shaking his hand at his side, he laughed again. 

“Don’t worry, dearest. The flames only licked me, I’m not terribly hurt.” 

Crossing back over to the table, he released the restraints from the body bag, while whispering. “I want to know more about you, tell me more, darling, I have to know.” 

The young woman looked to be in her early 20’s. Her skin, a creamy bronze color, had begun to fade to a sickly pale. Her hair, braided in thick, dark braids, looked rough to the eyes and soft to the touch. Her lips were full, the top one being significantly darker than the bottom, and cherry red. The nose was pronounced, but delicate with cheekbones that looked as though they were sculpted into her skin. Her curvy figure complimented her droplet shaped breasts nicely. The woman held the beauty of a noble woman, not that of a lowly maid. Her body was on the taller side for a woman, but much shorter than Wilkinson.  
She lay with her eyes closed, as if in an eternal slumber. With her fingers folded together and hands resting on top of her chest. Wilkinson picked up a hand by the wrist and pressed it against his cheek. The cool, firm skin made him shudder from her touch. He bent her arm around the back of his neck and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Her hair smelled of hair oils and the natural essence that came with death. The smell alone excited Wilkinson, he could feel himself getting worked up, and he’d only just started. 

He unbuttoned the front of her plain cotton dress and slid a hand inside to grab at her stiff breast. The dark brown tones of her nipples had begun to fade to a pale brown. He circled the nipples with his fingers, squeezing and massaging them with his fingers. He admired the way her skin stayed perfectly in place, no matter how hard he tugged at her pert nipple. 

“There’s no reason to be shy, everyone has a first time. I promise to be gentle.”  
Wikinson whispered as he planted a kiss onto her forehead.

He massaged his fingers into the solid skin, squeezing the tough mounds, his fingers fluttered over her nipples. Wilkinson tilted her chin up with some difficulty and pressed his forehead against hers. Much to his joy, she had already begun to stiffen. Wilkinson smiled, he liked to hear the sounds of their love making. The creaks and cracking noises of their bodies joined together as one aroused him. He pushed his lips against her, the kiss they shared was stiff and cold. Wilkinson was able to move his lips against hers, but wasn’t able to force a reaction from her body. The idea of his lips on those of a beautiful woman made his knees weak. Grabbing onto the back of her head with one hand , and the table with the other, Wilkinson stabilized himself. 

He pulled away with a gasp, “Goodness, you’re quite the kisser, my dear.” 

Sweat ran down the back of Wilkinson’s neck, all of his body felt aflame. He climbed onto the table, like he had done many times before, and slid his hand down to her thigh. Jiggling her leg back and forth Wilkinson was able to coax the tough skin into bending for him. He looked up at Marguerite, searching for approval from her closed eyes. 

“Do tell me if I’m moving too fast, darling. I wouldn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you.” 

Pressing his hips against hers, the outline of his cock pressed eagerly against the inner side of her thigh. A small hiss of excitement push passed Wilkinson’s lips, as he pushed his own hips down into hers. He rocked his hips forwards and back, allowing the pleasant friction of the lifeless body to harden his clothed cock. He lost himself in the moment, tilting his head back, Wilkinson moaned from the depths of his throat. Suddenly, without warning he stopped. His hips quivered from the lack of release as he hastily unbuttoned his trousers. 

“My apology, my dear, I’d almost gotten carried away.” He whispered to the cadaver.

Wilkinson’s pale cock rested atop Marguerite’s dark colored cunt. Probing at her rosy colored lips, he slid his tip against her dry folds. He took a moment to wet his fingers against his tongue and wet her entrance, before returning his fingers to his mouth again. Wilkinson moaned a happy hum at the flavor, sucking hungrily at his fingers he nearly melted at the flavor alone. 

“Mphf- My dear, you taste incredible.” He growled at the woman. 

Lining his cock up with one hand and holding her heavy set waist with the other, Wilkinson connected their hips. Her body put a great deal of resistance, but that wasn’t anything new to Wilkinson, it was always a little difficult for a darling during her first time. With a little work and some well conditioned love he was sure to work his way into her. Jerking his hips forward and back, Wilkinson bit his lip and huffed out silent babbles of pleasure. His speed gradually amounted to a steady pace that produced a teeth grindingly intense pleasure that Wilkinson could barely keep his eyes open for. 

Marguerite no longer laid lifelessly, she slid back and forth from the force of Wilkinson’s desperate thrusts. Grasping blindly for her head, he seized her hair and held the body in place. 

“Fear not, my dear,” He panted, “I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go.” 

In the height of his pleasure filled high, Wilkinson cupped the cheek of the woman and rubbed his thumb over her closed eyelid. He wanted to look her in the eyes as they made love, he needed to see her expressions of pleasure. Rubbing his thumb over the lid of her eye, it wouldn’t budge, much to his dismay. Wilkinson wiggled his thumb forward and back, in an attempt to pry the eye open. 

Coiling bands of pleasure curled themselves together in a tight knot deep within Wilkinson’s groin. Throwing his head back, he moaned out in pleasure and satisfaction as he felt his release grow near. His lower back stiffened, and he felt his chin tilt towards the ceiling as Wilkinson allowed his eyes to flutter closed. A wet squelching sound echoed through the room as Wilkinson’s thumb slid under Marguerite’s eyelid and pulled the skin from it’s socket. 

His nails dug into the slimy hole as he gripped the head. Bucking his hips, Wilkinson rode out the final moments of his orgasm. Slumping over the body, he pulled the maid close and laid his head upon her naked chest. Blinking absentmindedly, Wilkinson pulled his hand back and looked at the mixture of fluids that clung to his fingers. 

“Oh, dear.” He whispered to himself. “Oh, dearest.”


End file.
